


This New World

by MissRachelThalberg



Category: The Bletchley Circle
Genre: D-Day, Dancing, F/F, Fluff, Swing Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissRachelThalberg/pseuds/MissRachelThalberg
Summary: It's D-Day, and Millie's not going to leave Jean to listen to the radio in peace.
Relationships: Millie Harcourt/Jean McBrian, Susan Gray/Millie Harcourt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	This New World

**Author's Note:**

> The song is, of course, _Bay Mir Bistu Sheyn_ , with thanks to Jacob Jacobs, Sholom Secunda and – always – the Andrews Sisters (even if their version’s title is transliterated in a way I find personally unacceptable).

_And when you came in sight, dear,_   
_my heart grew light,_   
_and this old world seemed new to me._

“Miss McBrian, it’s _D-Day_. Come on.”

Jean puts her book down and looks up, straight into the sparkling eyes of Camilla Harcourt. For just the briefest of moments, she wonders how she missed the knock on her door – then realises with a mix of exasperation and affection that there might well not have been a knock in the first place. Millie looks at her expectantly, holds out her hand.

“Come on where, exactly?”

The younger woman grins.

“We’re having a party in the common room. Jenny’s got her Andrews Sisters records out and we rolled up the rug - ”

“Well, dear, I _was_ rather planning to listen to the 9 o’clock news…”

“Oh, _Jean_. Didn’t Macleod just say all’s going well on the coast of Normandy? It’s probably fine if we look away for a couple hours. C’mon.”

Millie offers her a hand, again – she has a fair point, of course, and for once, just this one time, Jean allows herself to be persuaded with very little argument. Tonight, it’s in the hands of the boys, a couple hundred miles away, no matter what happens at Bletchley.

In the common room, Millie steers her to sit between little Lucy and a record player that’s trying its humble best, despite having known better days. Lucy looks immensely proud and immensely worried all at once – she’s got cousins in the army – and Jean exchanges a few encouraging words with her, conveys whatever snippets she caught of the 9 o’clock news before she was stolen away.

Really, she mainly pretends very hard not to see the way Millie’s currently dancing with Susan Havers – tries very hard not to notice that she’s watching one who loves and one who allows herself to be loved. It’s an old, old story, and one she’s lived before; as much as she’d like to protect Millie from learning this particular lesson, she knows there’s nothing she can say to make that happen.

They dance well together, for all that, and Jean claps her hands alongside her girls as Millie swings Susan around. She’s not quite prepared when, as the next song begins, Millie heads her way, hands outstretched, and winks.

“Come on, Miss McBrian. I’ll lead you in this one.”

Jean briefly protests, but she’s not exactly three hundred years old, either – she likes the Andrews Sisters just fine, and it’s D-day, and maybe there’ll be an end to this endless war sometime soon.

“ _Of all the boys I’ve known, and I’ve known some_ -”

(She hasn’t known all that many; isn’t quite sure Millie has, either.)

Millie’s a good dancer and a good lead – she’s had the practice, of course; Jean always recognizes a woman like _them_ from the way she dances. She laughs as Millie swings her around, twirls her and catches her again. In truth, Jean’s not a bad dancer, herself; she danced a very merry lindy hop with Alan Turing last Christmas, to the shock and surprise of quite a few.

As much as Millie smokes during the blackout - which is frankly _wildly_ irresponsible no matter how sure she might be that Jerry’s not looking for her particular cigarettes - and as much as she talks back, as much as she stays up after lights out and always seems to have a bottle of something handy, Jean likes her enormously and knows she’s liked back, and while she’s very aware she should be careful not to enjoy this dance _too_ much, it’s lovely while it lasts.

At the end of the song – “ _So kiss me, and say that you will understand.._.” – Millie, an incorrigible flirt always, lifts Jean’s hand to her mouth and kisses it. Jean aims a jokey slap at her shoulder, the girls applaud, one – Beatrice, _of course_ – whistles. As Jean finds her seat again, Jenny offers her a cup of very much _not_ tea, which she gratefully accepts.

On some level, she knows that Millie flirts with her out of habit, that her heart is really with the stoic, quiet girl on the other side of the room, but she’ll be damned if, from time to time, she wouldn’t choose the odd wink, the off-colour word, the carefully measured smirk, over the blind devotion the other girls reward her with.

(Millie, of course, has already vanished to sit adoringly at the side of the girl who, Jean would bet good money on it, will break her heart one day.)

Jean leans her back against the seat, philosophically shrugs her shoulders, and savours the hot burning feeling of the liquor at the back of her throat.

Life is far from perfect, but they’re alive and together and early this morning, the world was made anew.

For now, that might just be enough.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Times She Should Have Known](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26393887) by [MsFangirlFace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsFangirlFace/pseuds/MsFangirlFace)




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